


A Persuasion

by mcmissiles



Series: TES Minifics [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 07:24:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20254387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcmissiles/pseuds/mcmissiles
Summary: Llarala goes on a quest for the Balmora Guild of Mages. Llarala is woefully unprepared for said quest. Llarala tries her best anyway, because Llarala does not want to die like this.





	A Persuasion

**Author's Note:**

> A sketch based on my actual experience playing Morrowind. Features young, squishy, nervous Nerevarine Llarala, who you may notice is somewhat different from old, tired, bitter Dragonborn Llarala. Consider this backstory, or one end of a very long character arc. Or just consider it a kind of silly retelling of what it's like to play Morrowind from the PC's perspective.

Llarala limped along the dusty path, gripping her arm to stem the bleeding and periodically scanning the sky for another onslaught of cliff racers.

_"Just go find this wizard and convince him to join the Guild, right? Shouldn’t be too difficult.”_

Absolute fucking horseshit. If she even managed to get there alive, who in their right mind would want to join up with whoever sent her? That’s assuming she could still talk—she hadn’t tried in a while and she was feeling distinctly out of breath. Of course she was—she’d been dragging along half-dead since the bridge. Everything in this damn province wanted her dead.

A new shape appeared ahead, some shining and rounded architecture standing out from the rough, ashy surroundings. Llarala closed her eyes for a moment and sent a prayer to whoever would listen that it was her destination and not another place to die. She limped to the door and slowly cracked it open, meeting the disapproving but not altogether hostile gaze of someone inside. Allowing herself a quick moment of relief, she entered and shut the door behind her. Offering an apologetic glance to the woman in the entryway, she made her way through the winding corridor until she found herself facing a robed man, standing over a table full of notes and glaring disdainfully at her. When he gave no greeting, Llarala began.

“Excuse me, um. Are you Llarar Bereloth?” Her voice shook with fatigue and anxiety. She cursed herself for her lack of composure.

“Yes,” said the man, his voice cold and flat. “What do you want?”

“Um. I’m from the Mages Guild in Balmora, and I was sent to ask if you’ll join us, so if you’d—”

“Am I supposed to be impressed with the aptitude of your mages when they send me someone who can hardly make the trip in one piece?” He shook his head and turned back to his notes.

Llarala put on her most convincing face and pressed on. “It looks worse than it is. Anyway, once you join us I can head back to the Guild and get healed, right?”

“You can just do that now, without my joining. Go on.”

“Actually, no I can’t,” said Llarala under her breath, knowing Bereloth had already stopped listening.

As he turned his attention back to his research, Llarala considered her options. Her instructions had been to convince Bereloth to join the Guild or, if he wouldn’t, to kill him. Talking to him hadn’t worked, and likely wouldn’t no matter how hard she tried, considering she’d never said a charming thing in her life. She hadn’t tried bribery, but she barely had any money left and wasn’t sure if she liked her chances. That left killing him, and even if she were more comfortable with the idea, she couldn’t imagine lasting more than a few seconds against him in her current state. But she was just starting to get her footing in the Guild, and crawling back defeated would knock her back to where she’d started and she’d have to work her way out of that hole again, and who knew if she actually could. She sighed and rolled her eyes to the side, trying to think of something to do.

A pile of gold glittered on the table beside her.

It’s a terrible idea, she thought, but fuck it, so is every other option.

With a quick glance in Bereloth’s direction to confirm he wasn’t looking, she edged towards the table and carefully shoved the pile of gold into her bag. Bereloth didn’t look up or make any motion to stop her. She exhaled and strode back towards him, willing her knees not to buckle as she did.

He glanced at her for a second out of the corner of his eye. “What do you want? I thought I told you to go.”

Llarala took ten coins out of her bag and extended her hand towards him. “Join the guild, please.”

Bereloth stared at the coins, then back at Llarala. “Do you think this is going to convince me?”

Llarala added ten more coins to the pile. “Join the guild.”

“No.”

Ten more. She leaned towards him, sticking her hand directly under his face, trembling with exhaustion. “Join. The _guild_.”

Bereloth stared over it, his eyes searing disappointment into her forehead. “This is pathetic,” he grumbled. Llarala could feel a scream of despair building in her throat, until Bereloth rolled his eyes and took the money. “Fine. Tell your guild I said I’ll join.”

Llarala dropped her hand and felt tears begin to well up in her eyes. “Thank you.”

“What?” He looked up and saw Llarala’s face. “Oh. Don’t mention it. Just… just get out before I change my mind.”

Llarala turned to leave, but stumbled as the pain from her injuries, which she had almost managed to block out, came flooding back.

“Actually,” she hissed through clenched teeth, “I don’t know if I can make it back like this. Can I stay just long enough to patch myself up a little?”

Bereloth shook his head without looking up. “Clean up the blood and take the bed for the night. Wouldn’t want you going out there and dying before you can bring the good news to Balmora.”

“Thank you,” she said weakly.


End file.
